Dedicated to anyone reading!
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Epilogue
Prologue
Spike was on a natural high. The flavor of Mardi Gras was in the air even though it was still weeks away. Didn't matter, the streets of New Orleans had a different feeling, a different vibe around this time of year. The humans felt it too. He was a kid in a candy store. McDonald's had come to him, walking the night with unusual fearlessness and in ever larger crowds. Even the whores were more plentiful than usual.
Him and the pack -- he'd wisely left Harmony to her own devices -- skimmed meals out of the crowd. Walking in a tight, ever shifting group they swarmed around their prey. To the humans there was hardly a change. Every now and then there would be a collective gasp behind them as someone noticed their leftovers, bloodied and covered with bite marks. Police and medical services would be hastily, but belatedly, called. By then they'd already gone through another two victims.
It amazed him their supreme carelessness. Why not a minute ago they'd swarmed around a little family with a toddler and a baby in a carriage. The All Knowing, All Responsible parents just let the whelp wonder around while they played tourists. So they'd picked it up. It'd make a fun little toy for a while. Spike wondered how long before either noticed little Johnny was -- "My baby! My baby, someone stole my baby!"
Hmm, better than he thought. The leather clad pack congratulated themselves, no one had noticed the deed and no one even thought to pin it on them. Spike turned to his childe, a lazy prideful grin on his face. She was gone. "Chris?!" Turning quickly he scanned the minions and the crowd of humans around him. There. There she was with -- No!
The hysterical woman didn't notice the short woman in the long leather coat. "Ma'am. Ma'am. Is this you're son?" She looked down at her, not seeing the white blonde hair shot through with blue and purple and green. She didn't see various piercings. She only saw the dark blond hair that would soon turn brown and black eyes that belonged to his father.
"Zachary!" She swept the boy from the girls arms. For the first time he cried as if released from some enchantment. "How can I thank you?"
"Watch him more carefully." She turned and rejoined the minions.
Spike pulled her up roughly by her collar. "What the hell is wrong with you?!" When she didn't answer he slapped her. It was hard enough to snap a humans neck and crack the bones in a vampire. Her head merely whipped about. When she looked back an iron curtain had fallen over her eyes. She was ready for whatever punishment he decided to mete out. Angrily he threw her away. "Damn you, now I know why the bleeding minions call you Gemini."
§§§
"What's the matter Kitten," Spike said stepping over a minion with his throat torn out, "feeling out of sorts?"
"He disturbed my peace."
She sat on his -- sometimes their -- bed staring out into the night. Well, that would explain why most of the minions were giving his door a wider berth than usual. "You can't go tearing out the throats of every minion we have, luv, just because they decide to strike up a conversation," he told her practically.
She contradicted, "He knew better. They all know better than to disturb my peace."
"Even Harm?"
He couldn't see it all but her grin was evil indeed. "Especially Harmony."
Spike kneeled on the bed, approaching her cautiously from behind for though he might have been the only vampire safe from her wrath a little pain didn't deter her from incurring his -- just because she could. "So tell me, Kitten-- Oh, you," he turned to the still minion, "you can go now." Carefully holding his missing throat he scrambled for safety now that his unlife was no longer in danger. "Like I was saying, what's the matter then?"
Stonily she sat ignoring him . . .the one person she had no such freedoms with. And yet Spike didn't press the obedience he should receive as her maker only crossed the bed with unnatural stealth till he could lay his pale hands on her bare shoulders. This was a place they'd been to before in the four years of her existence, shutting everyone and everything out. Her peace, not to be disturbed by anyone not even himself else she would wreak her vengeance on the offender. At first, when the offender was Spike he wreaked right back until it became apparent to anyone with eyes that at those times it was not Spike who received her ire full measure but herself. Self imposed isolation turned mutilation.
"It's her birthday, I know."
Inside their -- usually his -- room it was another world, one of velvet and silk and darkness and quiet. Dawn approached the overcast sky making everything gray and the room a peculiar shade of blue. There was no house beyond those walls, no world except that which could be seen outside the windows.
She gasped. "How did you--"
"Known all the time, luv," Spike said drawing her back into his embrace. "Knew it when I drank from you that night. You couldn't kill the whelp, didn't expect you to. Couldn't kill the Poof either -"
"I needed someone to watch out for her."
"Right you are pet," he said in a soothing manner. He knew his childe better than she knew herself and anticipated her next action. He was ready for the sudden onslaught of tears; the sobs that require the heavy sucking of air into dead lungs just to release the tight knot of pain from her body; the sudden limpness of her supernaturally preternaturally strong body. It was four years of bottled pain, four years of willingly accepting every beating he -- no three years because after a while anyone with eyes could see they were utterly pointless -- gave, four years of her "peace" and Mother's Day massacres. (Although he liked to trail her on her solitary yearly killing sprees. She was a wonder to watch.) And much as he wouldn't admit it later, the sobs were painful to watch. If she were a human he would have been afraid they were causing some internal damage. Since she was a vampire he had to be content that it'd all heal after a few mobile Happy Meals.
"There there now Kitten. It's all right," Spike murmured because for all its ferocity pain like hers could not be kept at for long. It required too much energy and he knew she hadn't fed that night so, although it may have seemed like forever, the tears quickly subsided. "Did your little mole bring back bad news?"
She was too worn out to be surprised at the extent of her sire's knowledge. "No."
"What then?" Slowly extricating herself from his arms, she retrieved a package sitting on the windowsill and gave it to him. 2D pictures, a box full of them, of a little girl with curly frizzy hair, in bright jumpers, with chocolate ice cream smeared on her face, playing with other children and there, on top, at a carnival sitting atop the shoulders of her father.
Turning her face into his shoulder she said quietly, "I don't even know her name."
So Spike was surprised when as the first rays of dawn streamed through the open window she suddenly sprang from his arms into the murderous light. It was only his superior reflexes as her maker that saved her. "What the bloody . . . What do you think you were doing?" Holding her chin between his fingers in a punishing grip he ground out, "Did someone forget who the sire and who the childe was in this effin' relationship? Like any good mum I brought you into this underworld and I -- and only I! -- can take you out of it. Do you understand?" She refused to respond. Angry at her disregard for the gift that was unlife he savagely bared her neck. It was the only discipline she understood.
Usually he treasured drinking from her, she offered her blood more freely than most and only to him. Yet it was with ferocity that he bit her, reclaimed her as His childe, His thing, His to control and dominate and give or take as He chose. And always as he drank from her there was the mired sexuality -- the teasing with which she lured victims and minions both -- the struggling duality between demon and Slayer and the gaping empty ragged hole he and his Sire had created in her. The hole Spike'd only been partially successfully turned into raging hunger and anger for all humanity because the part that wasn't keeping the demon fed the Slayer's self loathing.
She was limp when he released her. Resolutely he crossed the bed and closed the heavy curtains over the window. "You stay in here tonight," he ordered knowing she liked to go on a rampage after an extended "peace." "Someone will bring you a body or two. Pack while you're at it," having decided while drinking, "we're going to LA"
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Taptaptap Taptaptap Taptaptap
The little girl stumbled out of bed nearly tripping over her long nightgown. She was too sleepy to care that her hair was in disarray, too young to worry who might be tapping on her window so late at night. She was young enough to stare out the window in wonder however at the white haired being.
"Hey little girl. Let me in?"
She pushed it the pane up from the sash. A breath of cool air momentarily plastered the gown to her thin body and blew her curly hair from her cherubic face. "My Daddy said never to let strangers in the house. Especially not vampires. A vampire killed my mommy. Guess what?" What? "When I'm old enough I'm gonna find him and I'm gonna kill him."
The woman smiled toothily. "You have a smart father and he has a smart daughter. You think I'm a vampire?"
She nodded emphatically. "I know you are."
"Well guess what?" What? "When you're old enough I'll help you."
The girl's eyes widened and she leaned dangerously close to the invisible barrier that protected her. "Really? Why?"
"Because the same people that killed your mother killed me too."
§§§
"Poor thing," she laughed extending her hand toward the invisible barrier between them as if she could strong the child's head, "who did your hair?"
Face turning into a puckering frown she gingerly touched the object of humor. "Daddy."
The vampiress laughed again. "Oh sweetie you have to let someone else do your hair for you. I'd do it if you like."
The girl stepped back. "No."
"Okay, you won't let me make you pretty." The woman sat back on her haunches contemplating the progress she'd made with the child over the past three nights. Tonight was the fourth after taking last night off (Spike blood flesh Spike skin sweat fingers Spike lips Spike) to make up for neglected time.
"You know what," she proceeded as if the thought hadn't been plaguing her for four years instead of five minutes, "I don't even know your name. I can't just keep calling you 'sweetie' and 'sugar' all the time."
The girl's mind was obviously torn. There was something about the vampiress that was . . .enticing, intriguing, enthralling. If only she wasn't an evil vampire!
"Um, I don't think I should. What's your name?" she asked in a moment of four year old genius.
"Well," the vampiress said playfully drawing the word out and up and down scale, "if you won't tell me yours why should I tell you mine?"
"But maybe if I tell you mine . . . I mean maybe if you tell me yours I'll tell you mine."
"Hmm, I don't know. You seem to be getting the better deal here." The girl's face said she wasn't going to give unless she really pushed. "How about we compromise: I'll go first. They call me Gemini."
"Why do They call you 'Gemini' and who are They?"
She smiled. "They are the minions back at the lair. Gemini is the name of a group of stars. They're called the twins because, I guess, people thought those stars looked like twins."
"So you have a twin?"
She laughed. "No. No. Gemini is also a sign, an astrological sign. People who are born when those stars are in the sky are supposed to have two personalities, two very different personalities."
"So you have two different personalities," she decided. "Yes," Gemini answered. "At least for a vampire I do.
"Your turn, what am I going to call you?"
"I don't know. Come up with something," she said with a smile.
It only took four days to get a smile.
§§§
"Will you do my hair Gem?"
"Can't do it tonight Honey Baby. If I did your father," she couldn't help but sneer, "will realize your imaginary friend Gem isn't imaginary. You don't want me to go forever do you?" The little girl called Honey during the midnight hours shook her fuzzy head fervently. "I'll tell you what though?"
"What?"
"If you let me wear that silver cuff with the lapis on your night stand I can come to your school and do your hair during recess. I'll do your hair and give you back the cuff and then we'll go back to our midnight meetings."
"How?"
"That cuff is special. It'll protect me from the sun though," she shrugged, "I won't be anywhere near as powerful."
"No. That's my Mommy's cuff." Eyes downcast and sad she added, "It's the only thing I have of hers."
"It's okay my Honey Baby, someday you'll trust me. Someday."
§§§
Harmony's brown eyes flashed gold, angry at the minions around her. Christina stood on her left facing her, arms crossed. Before them stood a bevy of minions of different backgrounds and looks and ability.
"Who's the Mistress here," she asked with the anger of a petulant child, stomping her foot, "me or her?!"
Immediately six or seven vampires, male all, jumped to her side ready to grovel at her feet. The other thirty or so threw cautious questioning glances at the brown skinned vampiress. "Well?!"
"Of course you are our mistress," a smooth skinned brown woman said dropping to her knees before Harmony.
Another vampire, tale athletic and male, exchanged quick looks with his fellows and did likewise. "Yes Mistress Harmony. You know we answer only to you."
Spike watched from the wings as Harmony bounced on the balls of her feet ready to gloat with the Slayer. Didn't the bint know Katie and Derek were Christina's personal favorites? They'd picked the girl up in Brazil. Her family were Indian immigrants with exotic dark brown skin, long silky hair and liquid brown eyes. She'd been ready made when they found her or had she found them?
She'd been a moody little chit and only Gem could stand her.
Derek was another Brazilian, of the paler variety. He could pass for a Latino or Caucasian in the States, his family having emigrated from Brazil. It didn't matter to Christina who couldn't resist him. She couldn't resist wanting him. She couldn't resist stalking him. (that had been fun) She couldn't resist turning him. (Spike'd thought she'd finally gotten over the whelp) She'd only made him into a minion.
Christina'd turned him and abandoned him only so he would be picked up by Katie. Spike had to admit the chit was calmer then. Together they loved Christina, made her their goddess. She was their Mistress and they were her most trusted servants.
It was obvious to anyone who walked into the "family" house who ran things. Certainly not Harm, Spike thought with a snigger pulling on his fag. Christina'd made that perfectly clear that first night when she'd pushed the dumb blonde into the far wall. Neither Derek nor Katie had been with them then but all the minions who liked their fangs where they were pledged their undying allegiance to her on the spot.
"See Gemini, didn't I tell you they're only loyal to me?"
"Indeed," she said in a smoke and whiskey voice laced with sarcasm, "I must concede subservience."
"Right, so long as you know I'm better than you are."
Dear God Harm, Spike thought, why didn't someone put them all out of their misery and stake her?
§§§
"Gem!" The girl wailed as soon as the vampiress leaped onto the fire escape.
"What?" The vampiress was immediately on guard, "What's wrong? Honey what's wrong?"
She was surprised when the little girl flung herself out the open window into Gemini's arms. She felt instead of heard the girl mumble something into her velvet covered skin. "Mr. Skreevle did? Mr. Skreevle did what? Is that a teacher at your school? Have you told your father? Did your father pull a frelling mudo crudoff? Don't worry, I'll take care of Mr. Skreevle just tell me what he did," she vowed feeling her mask of humanity slipping off.
"No," the girl said raising her head. "Mr. Scribble, my hamster. He . . .he died."
"Oh. Oooh, okay." Now how to handle this? Slowly, soothingly she smoothed the girl's fine eyebrows. "Do you, um . . . What do you want to do Honey?"
Sniffing she looked up and said, "I thought maybe you could bury it since your dead and all."
"Undead and okay."
"Daddy, Daddy?"
"Yes, who, no I don't know where Teddy is."
"It's not about Teddy. Gemini's watching Teddy."
Gemini was watching Teddy. His daughter's imaginary friend watching her stuffed animal. He supposed it made sense. "What time is it Sweetness?"
"The LCD says 6:10."
"Okay, why'd we wake Daddy up at 6:10 on a Saturday?" he asked sitting up and pulling his daughter onto the bed with him.
Instantly her face fell. "Mr. Scribble died."
Hadn't he just replaced Mr. Scribble last year? There had to be something in the air that shortened the LA hamster's life expectancy: that or a pet store conspiracy. "Are you all right grá." She nodded but he could see the pooling of her eyes. Knowing his daughter better than she did herself at six he pulled her into his warm embrace where she felt the freedom to cry for the second time that day.
§§§
"Are you sure you're not going to go poof?"
Gemini laughed weakly. "I told you, the cuff will protect me."
"But you look so . . .blah."
"It protects me enough not to go 'poof' but I'm nearly as weak as you are now."
"Really?"
"Yes really. Now stop moving around or your hair will never come out right."
§§§
Spike watched them flushed and bloated from the night's hunt. They'd gone all out inviting most of the house with them, the master vampire included. Three peas in a bloody pod they were, he thought. He wondered why he let her live -- Christina -- after her flagrant disobedience starting with letting his ponce of a sire live. Watching her there with her two favorites he wondered how she managed to live before.
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Some nights, some nights she didn't bother to wake the child. It was enough to watch her sleep.
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"Guess what Daddy."
"What pumpkin?"
"Daddy! You have to guess!"
"Not while Daddy's cooking dinner, hon, unless you want burned rice again."
"Blech! Okay so we'll say you gave up. Anyway, guess what Gemini said?"
"What?"
"She said one day she'd help me find and kill the vampire that killed Mommy."
Angel turned. "When did she say this?"
She shrugged. "The first time was a while ago but she said it again yesterday. Aren't you happy?"